


A Little Difference

by TricksterGabe



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Athos feels short, Gen, no there is no excuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 05:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1293223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TricksterGabe/pseuds/TricksterGabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Athos is disgruntled that he's the shortest of his brothers at arms</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Difference

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Exorin and Curiousfruit](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Exorin+and+Curiousfruit).



> Ever notice that Tom Burke is barely shorter than the rest of the main four?  
> I have, and as a decently short person I know how much a couple of inches can hurt.
> 
> The inspiration:  
> http://randominterlope.tumblr.com/post/78254821532/it-needed-to-be-preserved-for-reasons

Another night at the tavern congratulating themselves for making through another day and another successful mission. The last one was a little more difficult than usual but the four of them had gotten out with minimal damage to their side. They all manage to get drunk of their asses this night. There were all given the next day off Treville cited the reasoning of service to the crown, though Athos was certain that Treville just wanted to get them out of his hair for a few days.

 

The three of them are going around the table talking about the little pet peeves of their life in Paris. d’Artagnan is complaining about Constance’s husband and his strict house rules. Porthos is complaining about some assholes and their habit of bringing up melons whenever he walks by, ever since his birthday. Athos makes a mental note of who he will fight later. Aramis is complaining about some lover’s not so amorous husband. Athos isn’t really listening to them and apparently is more than drunk then he thought when he finds himself mumbling. “Why am I the shortest one?”

 

The conversation immediately stops, the three of them whip their eyes to slumped figure of Athos in his chair. Athos’ face nearly glows red with a sudden flush that overcomes his face at their attention. Porthos and Aramis lock eyes and share grins as d’Artagnan ventures quietly “Sorry Athos I didn’t quite hear you, could you repeat that?”

 

Athos just clears his throat and collects himself and starts to get up. “I said it’s time that I retire. I think we’ve been here long enough and I, for one, am relishing the idea of sleeping in my own bed.” He drains his cup and leaves his brothers in combat to their drinks and complaints, putting the incident out of his mind.

 

The day after next the four are back at training. Porthos is running through grappling with young d’Artagnan, teaching the slighter man to use the opponents weight against them. Which paints amusing sight for Aramis and Athos when the larger man demonstrates the moves on the gascon. Athos had nearly forgotten about the incident until he notices that Aramis is slouching next to him, not in his usual proud stance. He opens his mouth to say something then closes it, sure he is just imagining it. Soon Porthos’ loud voice calls out to the two spectators.

 

“Enough, d’Artagnan you need to learn to fight dirty. Here try it on Aramis, Aramis get your ass over here!” The man demands, he demonstrates some moves on Aramis and then leaves the two of them to work it out as he goes to stand as a spectator with Athos. Porthos is next to him leaning against the wall, again slouching more than normal. After a while Athos slowly realizes what is happening and starts to color as he realizes what his friends are doing.

 

“You do realize that you don’t need to alter your stances.” Athos remarks in a carefully light voice. Porthos actually colors himself about to start frantically explain himself when the two training stop and lope over.

“What ever are you talking about, my dear Athos?” Aramis asks, his best ‘nothing to see here’ smile gracing his face as he swings an arm over Athos’ shoulder. “By the way I have gotten you a gift.”

 

Aramis sends d’Artagnan to his barracks to retrieve this gift. (“What point is there having a apprentice if he can’t be used to lighten the load occasionally?”) And upon the boy’s return presents Athos with a box.

 

“Go on.” There was a light in Aramis’ eyes that Athos didn’t trust. “It’s not gonna bite you I promise.”

 

“You know with that comment, I am almost certain it will bite me now.” Athos cautiously opens the box and promptly rolls his eyes so hard Porthos thinks they will fall from his head. Athos carefully extracts a pair of boots, seemingly normal until you notice that the soles of the shoes have an inch or so of extra material.

  
Athos just stares at Aramis. Aramis and Porthos erupt into laughter, porthos using the wall behind him to stay upright. Athos seems sorely tempted to beat Aramis over the head with his ‘gift.’ d’Artagnan not having heard the mumbled comment two nights ago just stares at the three of them as though they have lost their respective minds. “I’ve missed something haven’t I?”


End file.
